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For the past twenty minutes, he's been talking to the Black Queen over the Fenestrated Walls. For the past twenty minutes, he's been forced to listen as she dissects his work like some over-enthusiastic serial killer, slicing everything to shreds until it doesn't look anything like what it's supposed to. For the past twenty minutes, Jack has been digging his fingers into his thighs in an effort not to snap back at her and get put to death because she's an overly picky bitch who can't be happy about anything.